


Beloved As My Own Soul

by zjofierose



Series: Zjo's zine fics [10]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, First Kiss, First Time, Growing Up Together, Incest, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Period-Typical Underage, Pillow Talk, Sex Talk, Sexual exploration, Sibling Incest, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:01:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28143537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zjofierose/pseuds/zjofierose
Summary: Written for Black Velvet: A Shirocest Zine!A lil' Misty-verse fic, for those what like that. :) Happy holidays!
Relationships: Keith/Ryou/Shiro (Voltron), Ryou/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Zjo's zine fics [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1503608
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Beloved As My Own Soul

**Author's Note:**

> for the gc, with all my love.

Shiro’s first memories are of Ryou: he remembers their parents, their nanny, their dog. He remembers the light streaming through the castle window above their shared crib. He remembers the sounds of the lullabies the wet nurse sang, and the clash of swords in the courtyard below their rooms, and the smell of their mother’s perfume. But before all of that, he remembers his brother’s face.

\---

They grow up inseparable. As infants, they cry when separated. As tots, they toddle everywhere hand in hand. In class they each strive to outdo each other, and on the training ground they fight to upend each other. They share a bath until they’re six and a bed until they’re ten, and see no reason why they ought not share a room for the rest of their lives.

There are occasional attempts to individuate them, but they all end in failure. By the time the Shirogane twins are twelve it’s clear that there will be no other heirs, and so everyone throws up their metaphorical hands and indulges them in whatever they want. It’s fine; they’re good boys, and will be good men, good rulers. If they’re maybe unusually close, who is going to be the one to say so?

They’re thirteen when Ryou suddenly shoots up several inches and gains about fifty pounds overnight. It’s more than a little disconcerting, this no longer being mirror images of each other business. Ryou can pin Shiro nearly immediately in wrestling, but he’s too clumsy to catch up in a foot race, tripping over his own enormous feet. Shiro can climb and leap higher and further, but his stamina wears short in the face of Ryou’s increased bulk and reach. What’s more, they no longer look alike: Ryou’s shoulders are broader where Shiro’s are still narrow; his chest is defined where Shiro’s is thin and bony; when they strip off and stand side by side to stare into a looking glass, even Ryou’s cock is suddenly longer and thicker than before, hanging full and heavy from a nest of dark hair that shames Shiro’s own thin curls. 

It throws them both off, but where Ryou treats it like a brave new world, and fully expects Shiro to wake up looking the same again any day, Shiro feels for the first time in his life a frisson of loneliness. He watches his brother like a hawk, observing silently as the nobles and servants treat Ryou like a man, not a child, and trying to imagine what it will be like when they match again.

\---

Shiro’s not the only one who notices the changes in Ryou. 

They’ve never kept secrets from each other, and so the first time Ryou tumbles into bed with Shiro, mouth reddened, hair mussed, and eyes sparkling, Shiro rolls onto his side to face his brother like he’s done his whole life, and waits for Ryou to tell him everything.

And Ryou does. Ryou tells him about what it’s like when Rosalie the chambermaid lets him slip his fingers under her petticoat and into her soft, wet heat. Ryou tells him about how the visiting dignitary’s handsome son takes Ryou’s cock into his mouth, and exactly what he does with his tongue. Ryou tells him what it’s like to bury his face between full breasts; to have a dick slip between his thighs until they’re covered with spunk and sticky; to be spread out on a bed and fucked until he’s begging to come.

Ryou tells him everything, and spares no detail. Shiro listens, picturing it all in his mind - the faceless other person and his own beautiful twin - Ryou’s laughing smile, his ruddy cheeks, his inky hair clutched in a nameless fist as he opens his mouth in pleasure. 

Shiro takes himself in hand more than he ever has - in the bath, behind the stables, alone in their bed while Ryou is off fucking any one of a dozen different paramours he has around the castle. Ryou is charming, always has been, always quick with a smile and a laugh, big and warm and good-looking. Shiro has never begrudged him any of it, has never minded being the quieter twin, the calmer twin. He knows he can hold his own, knows he’s just as handsome and intelligent and desirable as Ryou, but he’s never been a people-person like Ryou is, has never wanted to touch and be touched like Ryou does, not by anyone else anyway. He’s never had Ryou’s driving desire to please people, to bring them pleasure. So he’s happy to let Ryou chase and be chased, happy to roll over in bed and take in the blooming marks on Ryou’s strong chest, happy to bite his lip and listen to his brother’s exploits, happy to bring himself off later to the remembered sound of Ryou’s breathy exclamations. 

\---

When they’re sixteen, Ryou rolls over one night and catches Shiro’s gaze curiously. Shiro watches Ryou bite his lip and waits. It’ll come; Ryou can never keep quiet for long.

“Shiro,” Ryou says after a moment, his voice uncharacteristically wary, “why don’t you ever tell me about your lovers?”

Shiro blinks. “Oh,” he says, reaching out across the small space between their beds to take his brother’s hand reassuringly, “I don’t have any.”

It’s Ryou’s turn to blink, his soft pink mouth open in surprise. “You don’t? Why not?”

“I don’t know?” Shiro shrugs a shoulder, pulling the sheet up a little higher against the evening chill. “Just haven’t felt like it, I guess.”

Ryou looks faintly appalled, and waves his hands indignantly, dislodging the sheet as he comes climbing over to slide in next to Shiro. They may have gotten separate beds, but the nights they spend sleeping separated are few. “But, Shiro! You’re… we’re nearly seventeen!”

“So?” Shiro shoves his cold toes between Ryou’s bare calves. “I’ve got your stories. I know what to do if it ever comes up.” He grins, and Ryou’s face gets caught somewhere between pleased pride and escalating dismay.

“Do you hate that I tell you about it?” Ryou’s voice is cautious, “should I have offered to share? Or helped you to find someone of your own?”

“No.” Shiro’s voice is firm, and he presses his palm flat against his brother’s chest, waiting for Ryou to mirror the gesture, the firm heartbeats syncing to a unison thump under each other’s hands. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Okay,” Ryou sighs, and drops his head down heavily to the mattress, face still turned toward Shiro. He’s got his considering expression on now, and Shiro suppresses a groan. 

“This isn’t something that you need to fix, Ryou,” Shiro warns, but Ryou just grins the irrepressible grin that makes Shiro’s heart flip just as effectively as it does everyone else’s, and curls their fingers together between their bare chests. 

“Who do you like, Shiro? Do you like girls? Do you like hearing about me fucking them with my fingers, or licking them until they scream?”

_ I do, _ Shiro thinks,  _ but not because of the girls; because it’s you doing it. _

“No,” Shiro says instead, “I don’t think I’m interested in girls.”

“Boys, then,” Ryou says, and Shiro nods.

“Yeah,” he bites his lip, “I like boys.” 

Ryou’s smile is as charming in the dim light of their room as it is on the ballroom floor, as it is in the bright sunshine, and Shiro can’t help but be taken in by it, can’t help but lose himself in the rhythm of the quickening heartbeat under his hand.

“Any boys in particular?” Ryou asks, waggling an eyebrow, and Shiro turns his face away.

It’s not so much that he’s embarrassed by his regard for Ryou; they’ve always been close, his attraction to his brother feels natural, inevitable, logical. It’s the obvious outcome of all the time they’ve spent together, of how they know each other as well as they know themselves. But he has no indication that Ryou shares his attraction, and a small, careful part of himself doesn’t want to be disappointed. And besides, Shiro tells himself, one day soon they will have to marry, and they’ll be separated then. It’s better to stay as they are; the closest of brothers and the closest of friends, and not complicate things with an entanglement that would surely have to end someday.

“Who?” Ryou whispers, his voice a warm and familiar temptation in Shiro’s ear that he has never been able to resist.

Shiro covers his face with his hands. He doesn’t want to say it, not really, but he’s never kept a secret from his brother; he’s not sure he even knows how. 

“You,” he answers, flinging himself over the cliff edge without a backward glance. He trusts Ryou, trusts him with everything that is in him, with his whole self and whole mind and whole heart. He pulls his hands down from his face and looks his brother in the eye. “It’s only ever been you.”

Ryou looks poleaxed, and Shiro waits for a breath, then two. “I’m sorry,” Shiro says as the silence stretches between them. “I -”

Ryou’s hand comes up to cup his cheek, his eyes wide and shining. “Shiro,” he says, his voice incredulous, “really? Me?”

“Yeah,” Shiro sighs it out, closes his eyes and lets the soft stroke of his brother’s thumb ground him to his body, to their bed. 

“Why didn’t you ever  _ say _ anything?”

Shiro shrugs. “Dunno,” he answers, “didn’t seem important, I guess?” He opens his eyes again, gaze serious. “I never minded, you know. I’m not jealous of everyone you bed. I know you’re mine.”

“ _Good_ ,” Ryou’s whisper is fierce, “because you’re mine as well.” He squeezes their linked hands, and his face goes comically heartbroken. “But Shiro,” he whines, “think of all the fun we could have been having!”

Shiro stares at him for a moment, Ryou’s full mouth pulled down in a dramatic pout, then flops over on his back to laugh and laugh. 

“Gods,” he wheezes, opening his eyes to see Ryou’s beaming face peering down at him. “Only you.”

Ryou just grins harder. “Shiro,” he says, mock seriously, “just think of all the time we’ve been wasting! I have _so_ much to show you!”

Shiro laughs, closing his eyes again, then exhales a long breath before he speaks again. “Ryou,” he says, eyes still closed, “are you sure? You know whatever we start now can’t last.”

“And why not?” Ryou shakes their hands where they’re joined together. “We will be kings one day. We’ve always said we’ll rule together at each other’s side. Who will tell us otherwise?”

“Any spouse we may take, for one,” Shiro answers, and Ryou shakes his head determinedly.

“It’s you for me, or no one,” he vows, and Shiro’s heart catches in his throat. “We’ll just have to find an accommodating match.”

Shiro nods, fingers clutching at his brother’s hand. Even if he could deny himself this, he can’t deny it to his twin. Doesn’t want to even try.

“Kiss me,” Shiro says, voice hoarse, and the look of tenderness on Ryou’s face as he bends to oblige is nearly enough to make him come undone.

Ryou’s mouth is firm and warm against his own, and Shiro has been kissed once or twice, but never anything like this - they move together as one, giving and receiving, a perfect match as Ryou leads and Shiro rises to follow him. They’re already nearly naked in the warm night, tan skin and the lean muscles of youth. It’s the work of only a moment to strip the remaining bedclothes from their bodies, and then they’re coming together like nothing has ever come between them. 

Ryou’s hands on Shiro’s body are a revelation, tracing every sharp muscle, every curved joint. He sets his mouth to Shiro’s shoulder and Shiro moans, grasping at the hard planes of Ryou’s back and shoving a leg between Ryou’s knees.

“I always wanted this,” Ryou murmurs, and Shiro pulls back in surprise even as Ryou’s hand finds the round of his ass and pulls their hips together. “I just never thought you would.”

It’s Shiro’s turn to cradle his twin’s face in his hands, kissing him hard and long. “It’s you for me,” he says, “always,” and Ryou groans into his mouth. His hands are huge and warm on Shiro’s bare skin, and it’s intoxicating as they wrap around Shiro’s waist, his thighs, cupping under the back of Shiro’s knee to pull his leg up and over Ryou’s hip. “Show me,” Shiro whispers, and Ryou’s fingers slide down Shiro’s belly to twist around his cock.

“I’ll show you _everything_ ,” Ryou promises, his voice thick, and Shiro nods, burying his face against the curve of Ryou’s neck.

“I’ll _give_ you everything,” Shiro answers, and Ryou’s hand presses them together, a sweet drag that has Shiro’s hips thrusting forward on instinct. Ryou’s grip is firm, clutching them together as he moves his clever, callused fingers in careful counterpoint to their escalating undulations. 

Shiro grasps at him like he’s falling, drowning in the sea of their sheets and lost to the waves of desire that roll over him as Ryou holds him close and brings him off, Shiro’s hot spend coating Ryou’s hand before it’s joined with his own.

“Gods,” Shiro whispers, breathless, and Ryou nods, mouthing into his hair the wordless sounds they’ve always used with each other, a secret language shared with no other. 

Shiro kisses him again, slowly, tenderly, eyes closed as Ryou presses his hand against Shiro’s heart, sticky and warm and utterly beloved. “You before all others,” he vows, and Ryou nods.

“You before all others,” he sighs, and curls his face into Shiro’s shoulder.

\---

When the idea comes to wed the Crown Prince of Marmora, they consider it in private. Marmora is small enough, desperate enough, that they may be willing to accept a more unusual offer.

“Make it clear,” Ryou tells their secretary when they write up the terms of their response, “that the Crown Prince will not be married to one of us, but rather will be spouse to each of us in turn.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the secretary nods, carefully inking the terms of the offer.

“Make it clear,” Shiro says to the trusted guard who will be carrying the message to the Marmoran kingdom, “that we are in this _together_.”

“As Your Majesty commands,” the guard says, his face composed, but his eyes knowing. Ryou catches Shiro’s gaze from across the table, his eyes full of love and heat. 

“After all,” Ryou says, more to Shiro than to the room at large, “we share everything together.”

Shiro smiles. “And none shall come between us.”


End file.
